The Goblet Of Love
by nozhana
Summary: What happens when you hear the story from a boy named Alexander Vivankovich in his third year at Durmstrang, on which he travels to Hogwarts with Viktor Krum and the other Durmstrang students to put his name in the Goblet of Fire? Who would he fall in an unrequited love with, in Hogwarts? Tag on in this magical story including love, danger, sexuality, happiness and frustration.
1. The Nighttime Stroll

As a chilly starry night was flashing its numerous constellations into view, Alex paced his way back to the great hall, the crunch of fresh grass audibly heard beneath his every step. He could easily see each of his exhalations forming a wisp of vapor like a light smoke. Just as he began to climb the stairs leading to the tall wooden door of the castle a figure in flame-red robes emerged in front of him.

"Hello, Vik."

"It's Viktor! What were you doing down here at…" glancing at his watch momentarily, he continued: "half past ten, Alex? You do well know about the curfew?" Viktor said, haughtily.

"I do, Vik, just went to visit Professor Karkaroff. He told a prefect to come get me." Alex slowly uttered, steadfast.

"Balderdash." Viktor snarled.

"He's standing by the Fountain of the Spooky Dragon, just go ask him yourself." Alex replied, slightly aggravated.

"The Fountain of the Sputzi Dragon, you blockhead." A nerve twitched on Viktor's temple. The prefect badge with a big golden P was shining conspicuously on his chest, slightly crooked.

Alex smirked and started pacing away.

* * *

His third year at Durmstrang has been so far welcoming. Karkaroff had said at the feast in the beginning of the year that the Triwizard tournaments are to be held again after about a hundred years, and he took this as a fortunate incident to happen in his time in school. Apparently the Triwizard tournaments were going to be held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this time, and Alex couldn't wait to pack and go to England. He was going to sign up for the championship and fortunately, that Viktor dog allegedly wasn't so interested in applying for it.

He reached the end of the hallway and stared at the brick-laden dead-end wall for a couple of seconds before drawing out his wand. He muttered " _Incendio Minima!_ " and with a flick of his wand, the tip ignited with a dancing yellow flame.

He drew a circle in the air, as big as a human to crawl through, followed by a vertical line across the circle. The fire traced the line so that the symbol was visible like a hoop on fire. Alex watched as the symbol flew towards the wall, stuck on it, and started burning the wall, towards the center. A hole just as big as the circle appeared on the wall. Alex sheathed his wand and crawled inside the room. As he stepped out of the hole, he noticed from the corner of his eyes that the hole closed up and the wall was laden with innocent-looking bricks just like before.

The room wasn't big, probably thrice the size of his own bedroom back home, but there were colorful Persian rugs overlapping all over the floor, to the brink of the fireplace sill, and all around. A couple coffee tables were not-so-neatly placed in a rather bright corner of the room to the right of the fireplace, ottomans and armchairs surrounding it. A vast studying table was placed right on the opposite side, completely covered by nearly 15 chairs. All walls and furniture classically furnished with black and maroon tablecloths, wallpapers, and an abundance of embellishments. Staircases were spiraling up from either side of him in opposite ends of the hall, leading to girls' and boys' dormitories.

He lazily dropped himself down on an armchair near the fireplace. Someone had left _The Daily Prophet_ on the coffee table in front of him. He took the bezoar out of his pocket and put it on the coffee table. As it slipped from his hand accidentally, a loud clang echoed throughout the room.

Uncaringly, Alex picked up The Daily Prophet and checked the date on the front page which seemed to be today's. The capitalized title on the first page read

HARRY POTTER AND THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENTS:

WILL HARRY POTTER REGISTER?

Harry Potter, he thought. The boy who lived. Alex chortled softly. He threw the daily prophet back on the table and took the bezoar and gazed at it. It emitted a matte reflection on the surface.

"What a day it's going to be tomorrow." he muttered to himself. He felt too drowsy to go upstairs to the dormitory. He threw his legs up on the coffee table as he pocketed the bezoar, enjoying the wave of warmth flowing in from the fireplace on his left. He picked up the black Ushanka on his head, swiftly shaking his head to let his long hair fall down onto his shoulders. Alex had always been proud of his beautiful naturally straight brown hair. It honestly was something to envy. He dropped his Ushanka on the table, laid back on the armchair and gave in to the temptation of letting his eyelids drop. And he slowly fell into a starry daze.


	2. Professor Gagarin

Alex woke up due to the loud chatter around him in the common room. Vladimir Lustig and Nathan Burgundy were already downstairs, talking about their timetable.

"Double Transfiguration today? Are you kidding me? I can't even stand that stupid Gagarin more than an hour!" grunted Vlad in a very annoyed voice.

"It's definitely not worse than Potions, last hour." replied Nathan monotonously. "Who'd want to have to tackle Noskova at 6 PM in the dungeons? I'm going to go absolutely nuts this year."

"Have you heard of that Granger girl though?" Vladimir sounded like he just recalled something extraordinarily important.

"Who's that?" asked Nathan, with a look of plain curiosity in his eyes.

Alex sat up silently, sharpening his ears.

"She's in Hogwarts," Vlad started. "They say she illegally used a Time Turner stolen from the Ministry of Magic in England to attend all her classes in the timetable last year! She had overlapping classes all over her timetable, they say!"

"She did not." Alex jerked his head suddenly to the staircase just as the voice came from that direction. A rather short, square-shouldered person with an ominous-looking buzzcut was standing by the door, looking like he just landed on the floor due to a bad fall.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Vlad sarcastically.

"I said, it's a lie. She did not steal it from the Ministry. It was given to her by the head of her house. It was permitted by the office of use of magical pendants and charms." appended Krum, looking obviously irritated. Vladimir opened his mouth, possibly to reply, but Viktor Krum climbed up the staircase swiftly, before he could.

Vladimir and Nathan were downright perplexed. Alex got slowly to his feet, wearing his shoes. "You know he's been having a crush on him." muttered Alex reproachfully.

"What?" said Vladimir and Nathan together.

"I said, Vlad, that he's obviously been developing a crush on Hermione Granger." repeated Alex.

"He doesn't even know her." replied Nathan disapprovingly. "He couldn't have been possibly dating her, and if he's so stupid to fall in love with a girl from another school in another country he's probably never going to meet, that's something to sneer at." said Nathan, smirking at Vlad doing so.

"Yeah I'd say it's true." Vlad shrugged.

Alex stood up and walked out the common room coolly.

* * *

Double Transfiguration was awaiting his presence just after breakfast, for which he was already late. Trying to bolt something down in about five minutes, he ate about half of the treacle tart in front of him all by himself. Helping himself to a few crackers on his way to class. The Transfiguration class was held every other day for every house for third years and under, since it was mainly the most prominent magical skill their educational system assumed them to have to master. It was, hence, established in a grand gathering room used as means to holding meetings with important people of the ministry and professors. As Alex pushed the heavy looking dark wooden doors of the room open, he saw the rather short transfiguration teacher, Mrs. Gagarin waving at the blackboard with her wand, apparently writing in midair, and at the same time something was getting scribbled down on the board. She seemed to not have noticed Alex just arriving late, since she had not turned back to him to acknowledge his entrance. But just as he himself came to a dawning realization, a sharp, high-pitched voice echoed from her direction, not to Alex's surprise. "Take your seat, if you will, Mister Vivankovich?"

He should've thought about her eye.

As she pivoted on her heels back to facing the students, Alex glanced at her rather pale face under the very curly bushy blond hair. The Mad Eye was rolling in her eye socket back and forth, whirring slightly, zooming here and there, stopping at irregular intervals.

Alex dropped his bag on the ground behind a seat in the very back row of the class. Resembling the drop of the bag, he dropped himself just so on the seat with a loud _thud_. Alisia Targer, who seemed to be very drowsed just next to him, stirred suddenly as he sat down, voicing a low grunt and muttering something about someone being reckless.

"As you all surely know by now, the Triwizard Tournaments are being held this year again." spoke Professor Gagarin discretely. "As for students who'd like to participate in the journey onto Hogwarts in the current year, please bring me the parental authorization leaflets and proceed to register their names in this sheet of parchment, after class." She was holding up a very long scroll of parchment in which some text was scribbled. Students' names, thought Alex.

The class wasn't much interesting for Alex to follow. He started playing with the mouse they were supposed to be turning into a button, already.

When the bell rang, Alex swung his bag on his shoulder and went over to Gagarin's desk. He sat at one of the front desks halfway there, since it was already crowded with students handing in their permission rolls excitedly. Alisia and Ute were nearly in a fight over who would get his parchment roll landed in Gagarin's hands first. Alex dropped his head to look at his feet for no reason.

Just as the teacher was slightly visible behind the mass of students that was reduced already, Alex stepped forward.

"Alexander Vivankovich, Professor." enunciated Alex as he handed in the roll. He tried to sound as calm as he possibly could.

"Yes, of course you are, dear. Let's see…" She skimmed the long scroll in front of her with great determination under her winged spectacles. "Ah, here. She flicked her wand at the quill floating on top of the parchment, and it started scribbling Alex's name instantaneously. Alex muttered a "thanks" as he disembarked on a journey to his next class, Disguise of Dark Arts.

* * *

Durmstrang was rather infamous in practicing Dark Arts more widely than other known magic schools, whose curriculums primarily consisted of subjects like Defense against Dark Arts, Dueling Clubs and Occlumency (The art of closing one's mind around Legilimency - that is, trying to penetrate someone's mind in order to read thoughts or incept ideas).

Disguise of Dark Arts was a less-preferred mandatory subject for Alex. He could crisply remember the vision of their Disguise teacher, Mr. Haust, performing the three unforgivable curses on three different mice on the first session. He also remembered the exact nauseated feeling in his stomach after class just too well.

On the landing of the staircase leading to the class door, Alex noticed Professor Gagarin dashing in front of him so suddenly he nearly walked into her. Alex looked up, utterly shocked.

"What is your next class, dear?"

"Professor! But what -"

"Oh no time for that sweetheart. What is it, if you may?" pushed Professor Gagarin.

"Er - it's Disguise." Alex frowned.

"Alright I'd let Professor Haust know that I'd be borrowing you for a few moments, if that's of no trouble?" Professor Gagarin looked very keen.

"Er - Um, I don't know - I mean, gosh, alright I guess. Just would you kindly make sure he deducts no points from Mantikor?" asked Alex, imploringly. "Professor?" he added hastily.

"Of course, my dear boy. Come now. We're going to have a chat inside my office."

As Alex walked (rather fidgeted his way) towards Professor Gagarin's office, slightly forcibly lead by her hands on both his shoulders, he noticed the inhibitors of the paintings gazing at the two, occasionally muttering to each other. Just as a good lady in red robes holding a glass of wine in a painting gasped at the sight of them, Alex faced Professor Gagarin, inquiringly. As he started to mouth the words of his question, Professor Gagarin answered it hastily. "None to worry about my dear child. Just noticed something curious that I'd like to discuss with you." She smiled in a rather constrained manner as she fidgeted with the keys in the door.

Finally the door was open, and a stretched arm accompanied with a brief head bow indicated Alex was supposed to take the lead into the office, for some reason.

* * *

Rather unnerved, Alex skimmed the room in a short look. Something like a four-plate cross-shaped scale made out of gold was placed in the corner of Professor Gagarin's desk, which was constantly moving, as though it was windy in the dank air. Just as he meant to ask what it was, he caught a glimpse of Professor Gagarin doing something weird from the corner of his eye. He pivoted quickly just to see her bolting the door on him. He lunged himself at the door with a resounding _thud_ and flailed about.

"NO! LET ME OUT!"

Alex heard quick footsteps rushing away in a quick walk.

"GET BACK HERE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Alex felt a draught in his throat. He was absolutely petrified.

He heard the noise of footsteps come to a sudden halt as he just shouted vociferously.

" _Silencio!_ " Alex heard Professor Gagarin mutter.

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME! YOU FILTH! COME BACK HERE! HEEELP!" howled Alex as he banged his fists on the door more intensely.

After a period of time, Alex was too tired to thrash about. He just leant on the door and let his body slide down, forming a knee-hugging position doing so.

He gazed at the small scale thing on the desk for minutes absent-mindedly. Time was passing. He was reviewing all the possible reasons that could've gotten him into this horrid situation. As he did so, anger rushed in his blood, in all his veins, recalling his scene with Gagarin. he thumped loudly on the ground. Then he noticed the arms of the scale oscillate.

Neither his punch on the ground could be so strong nor the ground material could be so weak for this phenomenon to take place. He tried it again. But he guessed it right: nothing happened this time to the strange golden scale.

Alex got up on his feet, absent-mindedly clutching the hem of his T-shirt. " _What if she left me in here to deal with this? What if it could do something to me? What if that's what she meant? To vanish me with this scale thing so inconspicuously so that no one notices a thing?_ " Thoughts were forming rapidly in his mind as he gazed more thoroughly at the scale. He felt a sudden surge of panic as the thoughts flooded his head.

Then it happened again. Just as he frayed, it seemed like an invisible wind flew across the room, making the scale flail its arms violently. Alex tried to form another thought, staring at the scale. He thought the first recollection of the Disguise class he ever had, how horror struck him as Professor Haust held his wand out at the white mouse, enunciating "AVADA KEDAVRA!". The green light, the petrification of the mouse. The dying. He relived the horror through the memory.

Then the arms of the scale started flailing again. So harsh they were barely seen straight. The scale started spinning in place. Spinning and spinning, it began to glow a curious turquoise. The arms were thrown as high as they could, due to the spinning, to a horizontal level. It looked like a very magical-looking spinning top.

Alex could not resist the temptation. Raising his arm, drawing it nearer and nearer to the bewitched scale, he felt like he shouldn't do it. The spinning increased as he drew his finger nearer and nearer the exact summit of the scale, which was looking dangerously sharp.

The sound of a lock unbolting made him snap out of it. The scale visibly reduced in glow and flow. Alex looked back at the scale, and inhaling deeply, he rather smacked at the top of the scale with his unswerving finger.

The world started to twist and turn madly. He heard a loud _Pop!_ as he touched the scale. Rapid blurry visions of landscapes and more metropolitan areas swirled and passed him. He pressed his eyelids shut just as he felt abruptly nauseated. And only did he open them when he felt the solid, rather crunchy ground beneath his feet.

Alright guys what do you think so far?

Please give me reviews and follow my story. The more reviews and followers I get, the more keen I am to write more!

And please, please, please, give me any recommendations or storyline suggestions you can in private messages, or reviews or whatever. I'd be more than glad to use new ideas.

Peace!

x0x0 — Nozhan


	3. Hogwarts

Alex gradually opened his eyelids to the soft breeze flowing on his skin. The scene in front of his eyes was spectacularly unbelievable. He made out a lake far away, the surface shining the reflection of the sky like an exact replica. He pivoted on his foot to observe the scene of a very grand castle, with numerous turrets and flags dancing to the wind proudly in distance. Alex was standing in a vast meadow, golden hays surrounding him at chest height. He stared at the scale thing in his hand. It seemed and even felt completely useless now. He dropped it from the firm grip he was holding it with, and felt blood run into his hand once more. Shaking his wrist absent-mindedly, Alex started walking towards the castle, which seemed like a couple miles far away.

* * *

If he just knew how to apparate! If there was just something else here he could touch and take him further, right in front of the main entrance of the castle. Tired, Alex looked around. Nothing seemed different, or remotely interesting. He strolled onwards.

He walked and walked; Trotting absent-mindedly and humming "The Harmony of Magic" by the Weird Sisters rather loudly. Alex walked on. And walked on. He kept walking towards the ever-nearing never-reaching castle. When he was feeling nothing could ever be as pointless and boring as walking towards a grand castle which looks like the only human-inhabited structure in his scope (or maybe even deserted), he heard a resounding _whoosh_ and a blur of speed passing by, and before he could look for the source of it, the wind behind it picked up so violently Alex was nearly knocked down. He turned quickly to see the blur skid to a halt in the air just like it'd braked and braced like a hummingbird. Alex squinted through the sunlight to see more accurately: It was a man on a broomstick. No, more like a _boy_ on a broomstick… wearing robes… _school robes_...

He averted his gaze to the castle behind, then back to the flier. A dawning realization seeped through his mind as he nearly jumped with joyful relief. This was a school. A magical school. And definitely not the Durmstrang Institute or the Beauxbatons academy. Since he was already familiar with those buildings clearly. The Durmstrang students visited Beauxbatons most frequently, and these two shared an immaculately organized student exchange program too. One could see a lot of Durmstrang's students in Beauxbatons and a lot of Beauxbatons' in Durmstrang. They were quite intertwined, and the students were familiar with both buildings' architecture and passages. The schools started to become more connected when Hogwarts left the trio around five hundred and forty years ago. _Wait_ , Alex thought. _Hogwarts… What if this is -_

Alex gazed at the school building once more. This had to be Hogwarts. The only other school among the 11 magical schools in the world that inhabited an ancient castle was Hogwarts, and the others were modern Metropolitan buildings or were a collection of small resort-like centers. If this was Hogwarts, then he was either in luck or in major trouble.

"Oy! Need a ride, mate?" shouted the broomstick rider.

Alex looked up at him and squinted.

"Um, I've never ridden a broomstick." shouted back Alex, wishing he was near enough to whisper the slightly embarrassing fact.

The rider cackled cheerily. He wore a pair of round, rather prominent glasses that made his green eyes look slightly bulged, and softened the harsh angles of his manly jawline.

"It's not a problem, mate," shouted the rider in a sweet British accent. "Tag along, it's me who has to control the broomstick anyway."

Alex stepped hesitantly forward as the rider landed swiftly and unmounted his broom.

"Here. You sit in the back. Don't put your feet up on the stirrups, they help me steer the broom. Cling on to my midriff instead."

"Okay." Alex nodded feverishly.

The whole idea of riding a broomstick was unnerving. Let alone being the passenger.

He swung his leg over the broomstick and waited for the student to join in. He mounted the broomstick in a single motion and put his hands on the handle. Alex felt the broom vibrate slightly under his thighs. He clung hard onto the boy's waist.

"You ready, mate?"

"Yeah, I gue - WOAH!" cried Alex as the boy kicked off towards the blue sky.

Alex was hyperventilating. He couldn't bear the vertigo bearing down on him. The boy bore the broomstick off the other direction in a very angular drift. The inertia pushed both of their torsos to the sides and tilted their necks until they faced the other side. Then the boy dashed forward suddenly.

The wind was so intense Alex couldn't keep his mouth closed. He felt the inside of his mouth and lips dry out as the violent wind whipped on him.

"Where do you come from?!" yelled the boy forcefully.

"Whaa?" yelled back Alex.

"Where -" dodging under an apparent turbulence in the air, he continued, "do, you, come, from?" the boy shouted back at him distinctly.

"Dumstank!" was Alex's failing attempt at enunciating his school's name.

"What? Clapham?" queried the boy.

"Nooo!" croaked Alex loudly in the wind. Embarrassed at his voice, he went on, "Duuuumstraaaaank!"

"Durmstrang?!" shouted back the boy. He sounded slightly shocked.

"Yeah!" _How could he manage to say that flawlessly and I couldn't?_ thought Alex.

* * *

Finally they landed in a vast, oval Quidditch field. He inhaled the smell of fresh lawn as he unmounted the broom carefully.

"What's your name?" asked the boy as he unmounted the broom. Alex could get a good look at him now they landed in the field in the school. Big, green eyes, Caucasian looking, bearing a slightly bumpy nose. He had a skinny build, but he looked rather strong. To be honest, he looked really... beautiful, typically.

He rested his hands on his waist, breathing noisily, waiting for an answer.

"Alex," croaked Alex. clearing his throat he went on, "Alex Vivankovich."

"Well, Alex Vivankovich, I'm Harry," the boy skimmed him up and down. "You better go to the head of our house, Professor McGonagall. Explain your situation. This sounds like something worthy of discussion."

"Okay." nodded Alex, biting his lower lip. "I just don't know where to go."

Harry looked around at the other riders who were holding their broomsticks, gazing at them nonplussed. With an understanding look of approval, he turned back to face Alex.

"Alright. Move on. I'll lead the way."

* * *

Alright guys! What do you think of the story all in all?!

Please don't forget to leave reviews and request stuff, make suggestions and recommendations.

Also I'd appreciate any criticism y'all may have, so leave 'em in the reviews section.

Love,

Nozhan

x0x0


	4. Hiding Alex

Professor McGonagall isn't the kind of person you'd want to meddle with. Sturdy looking, with pursed lips and a white face growing whiter with anxiety, she had some sense of reliable authority in her. Karkaroff was just this big ol' scary bloke. Alex didn't respect Karkaroff at all. Well, at least not deep down.

Professor McGonagall was taken aback at Alex's presence in the grounds, and his story came out a bit ridiculous to himself too. _But at least I didn't lie,_ thought Alex desperately.

"You must be aware that there must be no apparition on the premises," said Professor McGonagall, her blue eyes peering directly into Alex's. "And the only means of fast transportation is with Floo Network and obviously Durmstrang isn't registered with the Floo."

Alex merely gazed back into her eyes, nodding dreamily.

"Do you understand, Mr. Vivankovich?" pressed McGonagall.

Alex's slow nod turned into a vigorous one instantaneously.

"Good. The headmaster, Mr. Dumbledore, has decided best, concluding all our recommendations and consultations, that it would be best to keep you sheltered within the premises, until the guests from Durmstrang arrive." McGonagall was organizing the papers on her desk. "Meanwhile, Mr. Karkaroff will be contacted soon, being informed on your arrival at Hogwarts." McGonagall sat back at her desk. Her elbows were laid on the desk, fingers intertwined, supporting the weight of her stern-looking chin. She might have as well had a lockjaw.

"I will assign Mr. Harry Potter — I assume you two have already been introduced — exclusively to your care. He will be responsible for anything you may need. Since you will stay in the Room of Requirements, you will naturally find all of your neccessities — I assume you don't know about the Room of Requirements?"

Alex shook his head slowly.

"The room on the seventh floor, on the right side. You will naturally not find the door. If you pass in front of the wall in the end of the corridor thrice, and concentrate severely on what you need — which will technically be a well-provided dormitory room — you will find the door then."

Alex merely nodded.

McGonagall opened her mouth as to say something, and closed it again after a short silent pause. She was looking disconcerted. Sighing nasally, she took hold of Alex's hand.

"Let me get you to Mr. Potter, Mr. Vivankovich."

* * *

The boy with the green eyes called Harry was standing by the portrait of a corpulent lady, talking and laughing vehemently with a bushy-haired girl and a very freckly blond boy. The laughing eased into infrequent snickers as Alex and McGonagall approached them.

"Mr. Potter, if you please come with me." ordered McGonagall politely.

Harry looked at the other two for a few seconds curiously, and muttered something about waiting for him in the common room to them, before shuffling towards Professor McGonagall.

"Is anything wrong Professor?" Harry was glancing intently at Alex frequently, mainly looking plainly into McGonagall's eyes.

"No, Potter," breathed McGonagall briefly. "You have met Mr. Vivankovich of the Durmstrang institute. The headmaster has assigned you the responsibility of keeping care of Mr. Vivankovich here for 38 days until our guests from the Durmstrang institute arrive for the Triwizard Tournaments. I'm sure that is none of a trouble to you?"

Harry was utterly taken aback. His firm stance had loosened into a sloppy anxiety.

"But, Professor —" Harry looked at Alex, then back at McGonagall, then back at Alex.

Staring into Alex's eyes, he continued. "How — what am I supposed to do then?" He furrowed his brows in concentration. "Is Mr. Vivankovich assigned a dormitory room, a place to stay or whatever?"

Before McGonagall could answer, Harry, looking more aggravated now, started again.

"I mean, how am I supposed to do my homework, exams, schoolwork, detentions and —" waving his hands in the air in an obviously irritated manner, "— whatsits?"

McGonagall took hold of Harry by the shoulders.

"There's not much you need to do, Mr. Potter. Mr. Vivankovich will kindly be staying in the Room of Requirements, preferably away from public view. Everything he may need will be easily found within that room. Now, you will just be responsible if anything will be needed to be reported to me or the headmaster, and for regular checking. Also, some small talk won't hurt. It wouldn't be quite nice to our guest to be isolated, away from human commmunications, correct?"

Alex was feeling very awkward. He felt guilty of some crime he hadn't done, he felt like a burden. Harry looked at him like some great responsibility and he could almost hear him grunting in mere displeasure. He didn't want that to happen. He wanted to intervene, tell McGonagall that he could've taken care of himself, but that didn't feel right to do anyway.

* * *

On their way to the seventh floor, with Harry leading the way, Alex thought he should tell him.

"Um, Harry?"

"What is it, Alexander?"

"Oh please call me Alex — "

"I will call you as I please." said Harry, looking back at him in the eyes doing so.

Alex felt numb all over. For one second, he thought of abandoning the idea. But he just had to get it off his chest. After a minute of footstep sounds, he let out a tiny cough to indicate his resumption.

"Um, I just wanted to tell you that I — I don't really need that much care. I can really look after myself, mind you. You don't need to sacrifice anything for me alright? A glimpse a week should suffice."

"Mmhm," nodded Harry, speeding up his pace. Alex jogged up to him.

A couple more minutes of walking in silence, and climbing the stairs.

Very suddenly, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, so abruptly that Alex nearly collided with him.

Looking up nonplussed, he intended to ask what was wrong when Harry made a deep resonating breath of frustration and a familiar act of eye-rolling, as he began to speak to him in a quick but distinct manner.

"Look, it's not you. I'm not mad at you or anything. I'm not upset or irritated — okay I might be a bit — at all. It's about McGonagall, he keeps assigning me things to _obviously_ throw me off focus somehow. I think there's something about the Triwizard Tournaments she doesn't like me to think about too much. Unfortunately — or fortunately — it just has the opposite effect. It's making me more curious than ever. But my sanity's being attacked whatsoever. I'm being sorta bad-tempered recently due to this matter, and I didn't mean anything back then. There's nothing against you. I want you to understand that."

Harry's eyes were fidgeting back and forth, gazing at each of Alex's eyes intently. Like they were scavenging for an approval. Alex recognized this as a form of apology.

"It's alright, of course. Don't worry." he said coolly.

"Yeah. Great. Thanks." said Harry, his green prominent eyes still gazing at him in the dark staircase. He sounded slightly embarrassed anyway. Alex understood that. He felt a slight elation, like butterflies flying in his stomach.


End file.
